Morgana's Little Friend
by Viper of Grand
Summary: Why does Morgana think the way she does? Few know, fewer understand. Morgana/Kayle backstory.


"_Argh!"_

_A young winged girl swung her training sword clumsily, her large, white wings fluffing up in exasperation. Blonde hair, snow white skin, and shining blue eyes were marred by the annoyed scowl on her face. _

_The girl's opponent looked every bit the same as the other girl except a little taller, a bit more muscular, and carried a much more serious demeanor. Her opponent easily parried the strike and swung her own sword about, pressing it against the girl's neck._

"_Two to nothing, Kayle," their presiding referee, and trainer, stated in a flat tone. "Morgana, your strikes are sloppy."_

_Morgana stepped away from Kayle's sword, resetting their positions. The other trainees were all gathered around the two sisters. watching their spar. _

"_You know, if you allowed me to use magic, this'd be over a lot sooner…"_

_Kayle's voice was firm, but reassuring as she said, "Morgana. Focus." _

_Morgana nodded and gripped her sword a little tighter. _

"_Ready? Begin."_

_Kayle's fighting style was direct. Though her moves were relatively predictable, with the speed, power and skill she fought with it did not matter if one could read her, by the time you realized it, her sword had already hit you._

_For Morgana, the sword felt clumsy to her. She hated holding it, she hated the weight it carried, she hated how it swung, and no matter the weapon, she always felt like it was a cudgel in her hands. '_Screw this,_' she thought to herself._

_Kayle's attack was an overhead slash, and Morgana decided to improvise. She used her sword to block the slash. When Kayle changed the arc of her blade's swing, Morgana was expecting it and prepared for it. In that moment, Morgana launched herself at Kayle's stomach, tackling her to the ground. It was a rough tumble and her wings sent up a flurry of feathers as they slapped the ground, but Morgana sat victoriously atop of Kayle's midsection and grinned at the success of her maneuver.  
_

"_Gotcha," she laughed while sitting on her dumbfounded sister's stomach._

"_Point goes to Kayle, due to an illegal move. Kayle wins the bout."_

_Morgana looked over at their trainer and threw her hands up at him. "What? This is effective! Look, her sword's knocked out of her hand and everything!"_

"_It is not what you are meant to be practicing, and-"_

"_Give her the point."_

_Both their trainer and Morgana looked at Kayle, who was still catching her breath. "Give Morgana the point."_

"_I can't-"_

"_Her sword," Kayle said while pointing with her chin._

_Morgana did not realize it, but the tip of her sword was poking Kayle's armpit._

"_Give her the point."_

"_...Then it is three to one.  
_

"_Eh, I can live with that. Better than anyone else today."_

"_Go wash up, the both of you. You earned your lunch." The trainer looked around and hollered, "Next are Raphael and Ezekel!"_

_Morgana rolled off of Kayle, stood up then stuck her hand out. "Need a hand up?"_

_A firm grip, and the fallen girl pulled herself to her feet. _

"_That was very stupid of you, Morgana."_

"_Eh? Wh-"_

_Kayle reached over and gently brushed the base of Morgana's wing, eliciting a soft gasp of pain. "You sprained it. Stay still." A surge of golden light burst from her hand, nearly blinding in its brilliance. Without anyone noticing, Morgana's fingers twitched at the same time that Kayle's magic bathed her. Within a moment, it died away. A quick test flap of her wings showed that Kayle had fully healed her sister's injury. _

"_Thanks, Kayle."_

"_Let us go. Mother and father are scheduled to meet us, we cannot be tardy."_

"_After you, Kayle." _

_A mischievous grin stretched across Morgana's lips. The moment they were out of eyesight she jumped onto her sister's back, wrapping her arms around Kayle's neck._

"_Gah! What the hey, Morgana?"_

"_I'm terribly wounded, sister dear. I'm afraid you'll have to carry me to our dormitories."_

"_Get off of me, Morgana!"_

_Morgana slumped her head down onto Kayle's shoulder. "Alas and woe, all the energy has been drained from my body. Go forth, stalwart Judicator, and-"_

_Kayle's back tensed, Morgana could feel her sister's muscled become taut. "Me? Judicator? My swordplay may be enough for the rank of a Justicar one day, but my magic is currently too subpar for me to think that I could ascend any rank any higher than Justicar."_

"_Hey, hey, you did heal my wing, you're getting bet-"_

"_No I did not. I saw you."_

_Morgana winced. She gave her sister a soft hug. "I...I'm sorry. I could tell you were putting too much effort in the channelling of the raw energy rather than in the manipulation of the spellweave. Your intentions, they were good, but we were in front of all the others. I thought..."_

"_Morgana, I do not have any pride. You did not need to do what you did."_

_Morgana was about to slide off of Kayle's back when she felt two strong hands grab her calves and throw her upwards. A loud "meep" was all she could utter in response. Instead of being bucked off, Kayle had reaffirmed Morgana's position so she could carry her sister that much easier. "With that said, thank you for doing so."_

_Morgana grinned once more and rested her head atop of her older sister's. It felt like this moment would never pass, the comfort, the surety, no worries or concerns plaguing either of them. "It's alright Kayle. We'll go over your magic studies after lunch, kay?"_

"_Alright."_

* * *

A loud *ding* stirred Morgana from her trance. The beginnings of a web had started to form in the crook of her arm. But due to her movement, the spider quickly bolted away as its home was destroyed by the sudden movements of the fallen angel.

"Don't move for an hour and the damn spiders already start their work," she muttered aloud.

Her eyes flickered open, and she moved from her seat with a slow, graceful movement. The tattered rags of her dress swished across the floor as she made her way out of her room and down the stairs. Her bakery in Noxus was well known for its devilish delights, but today was a different day. Well, technically, today was the day she came to Runeterra, but that was hardly something worth celebrating.

Either way, the bakery had been closed all day because she needed time to rest today. A Sefiro, or "angel", needed sleep only occasionally when they reached maturity. With the rest she was granted today, she had a particular recipe she had been dying to try, and when she was expected to meet with a special guest at her Institute of War's bakery, why not let them guinea pig her new creation?

Morgana shuffled down the stairs with slow, graceful movements, her tattered, gnarled wings gently brushing against the wall on her right and the railing on her left. Her mind dipped into another ancient memory.

* * *

"_M-Morgana? Where are you going?"_

"_Mm? Pardon, dear?" Morgana paused momentarily on the staircase, donned in the uniform of the Justicars. Instead of opting for armor, Morgana wore a long, loose fitting robe of purest white and brightest red, her armored greaves clinking gently with every step she took._

"_Are you going somewhere?"_

"_I am. I've been called, that's why the other Justicars were here."_

"_B-But you may not come back. What if, what if you go like m...mom and...dad..."_

"_Gwen, dear…" Morgana smiled at the fledging, whose big green, glossy eyes looked at her from around the kitchen. "I'm going to get the bad people who hurt your mummy and daddy and I'm going to personally hurt them tenfold back. Your auntie Kayle and I will be back soon, alright?"_

_The young girl ran out from behind the wall and towards Morgana, her scarred, burnt wings sending flickers of ash all about. "Don't go, please don't go," she said while wrapping her hands around the Justicar's waist._

"_Shshsh, calm down, it's alright, dear. You have Artie, right?"_

"_Mhm…"_

"_Just hug him, be a good girl, and I'll be back _very_ soon, alright?"_

"_Y-you promise?"_

_Morgana returned the hug. "I do."_

"_Pinky swear?"_

_The Justicar rolled her eyes in slight exasperation. "Isn't my word good en-"_

"_Pinky swear?"_

"_Fine, yes, pinky swear." Morgana hooked her pinky with the young angel's. "There, is that better?"_

"_Mhm."_

"_Good. Cookies are by the stove, and don't let anyone that you don't know in. Grandma will be by in an hour. Alright?"_

"'_kay."_

"_Good. Now you can let go of me."_

_Gwen released Morgana, still sniffling and rubbing her now swollen eyes. The Justicar walked out the door and quietly closed it behind her._

"_Has her condition improved?"_

_Morgana looked over at the source of the question: her sister, Kayle._

"_No. It seems that her wings haven't recovered since the attack on her and her family. Disgusting Fallen ones, attacking a child like her. She's afraid of her own shadow now. Tch."_

"_You should not be so attached to her, Morgana."_

"_You're one to talk. Who gave her valiant little Arthur again?"_

"_Does that matter? I have removed myself as need be. The Judicator's time limit is coming up within the next year. If you cannot find a cure for-"_

"_And I keep telling you, she's just a child," Morgana barked back. "I am looking into how to fix her 'condition'. Three years, what sort of deadline is that?" She threw a hand up and growled, "Kaleskus had a century to come up with a battle plan for the Fallen ones, and look how far that got him. We step up to the plate and boom, they're falling like flies. I'm being asked to do something infinitely harder in three years. How is that fair?"_

"_We cannot allocate resources to a futile-"_

"_That's bull, Kayle, and you know it."_

_Kayle gave her sister an unnerving glare. "Are you questioning the wisdom of the Judicator?"_

"_Yes. I am," Morgana said while rolling her shoulders. "I know better than that doddering old f-"_

"_Never."_

"_Pardon?"_

"_Never, say such words, _ever_, in my presence again."_

"_Kayle, I had to educate him on the finer points of how our own brand of magic works. I'll call him whatever I pl-"_

"_Never."_

_Morgana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine, I won't. This will be a conversation for another day."_

* * *

Morgana had stopped at the foot of the stairs, lost in memory yet again. She let out a snarl and shook her head. Now was not the time. She needed to make sure that her cake had not burned into a crisp. A tendril of inky blackness snaked out from her shadow and darted into the kitchen, flinging the oven open. By the time Morgana walked into her kitchen, she could smell the baked goodness of cheesecake.

More tendrils grew out of the dark aura that emanated from her being, and started to open the nearby fridge. How thankful she was that Runeterrans invented such a device. Her tendrils also started to scour the drawers and cabinets for a bowl, a measuring cup, a frying pan and a wooden spoon.

From the fridge, Morgana withdrew several kinds of berries, from blueberries to strawberries, as well as a bowl of blackberries, and rested them next to the stove top. She stared at the assortment of berries, hummed to herself, and commanded another tendril to snake its way to another cabinet, while the one that had been handling the fridge opened it once more.

A bag of sugar, along with a stick of cold butter were plopped next to the pan. After a quick, cursory glance at the cake, she closed the oven door with a push of her foot and clocked the stovetop on. The snap of an electrical ignition, and fire soon bloomed.

Morgana picked up a handful of the blueberries and started to gently crush them. She could feel the skin split, the juices start to leak…

* * *

_The golden gates of the Chayot Palace swung open with no fear for a fellow Justicar despite the strange, almost demonic, expression she carried on her face. Morgana did not slow her flight until she reached the throne room of Judicator Mikael._

_The heels of her greaves dug into the red carpet, ripping it apart from the force._

"_Justicar Morgana," the Judicator's voice boomed. "Your arm. It has been corrupted."_

_Her right arm was shaking uncontrollably, her left hand covering it while a golden light fizzled in and out of existence in a meager attempt to heal herself. She could see the rot that had destroyed most of her muscle tissue, her bones were exposed and barely had tendons holding it in place. _

_Despite this, she screamed at the Judicator, "WHERE IS SHE?!"_

"_Purified."_

_Morgana's lips started to tremble, her eyes glowed with a golden light tainted by the dark hues of purple. "I had another year. You gave me three years. Why have you broken your word, Mikael?"_

"_You will address me with the due respect I command, Justicar M-"_

_Morgana surged forward, her hands outstretched with magic attempting to surge forth from her fingers to no avail, the golden flames flickering in and out of existence. Judicator Mikael flicked his wrist, sending out a torrent of golden flames to bathe her with. What he expected would eviscerate her, to the surprise of everyone, did nothing to hinder her as the flames died away, absorbed by some sort of shield. Despite her minimizing the potency, the torrent of flames singed her wings and successfully dissuaded her from attacking._

_Morgana let out a sharp hiss of pain as she propelled herself away from the fire, landing on the ground with a harsh "thump"._

"_What do you think you are trying to do, Justicar Morgana? Has the corruption already tainted your mind?"_

"_I had a year. I had a year left, Mikael. You broke your word," she spat. Morgana's eyes were wide with rage. "I am going to kill you for that."_

_Judicator Mikael did not appear to react to her words. He nodded his head and said, "You will not allow yourself to be purified, will you? You can barely hear our Maker's word at all. You cannot summon forth the flames of justice that had distinguished you so from your peers."_

"_That's it? That's all you have to say?" Morgana's anger was barely contained. "I-"_

"_You have been corrupted. You are attacking me, the Judicator, the leader of our people, Justicar Morgana. Your actions seek to pointless destruction, and why? For a failed cause. I broke my word only to ease your pain and to aid our people. Do you not understand? The corruption spreads. The Justicar that had brought her here, she had wounded him and he was already showing the similar signs you show to us all now. He too, had to be purified, and he accepted it. Now stand down, and let yourself be redeemed."_

_Morgana was taken back. What had she done? Was she truly corrupted? Now that she thought about it, the magic did not feel unnatural. It felt like it was a part of her. It was just the flow of her own magic, but the golden magic of the Sefiro people, that was the true form of magic. All other forms were contrived from the Sefiro people, given to them as an act of benevolence, or just corruptions of the spellweave._

_Yet...the one who had cursed her, it was a Fallen one who could use this magic as easily as he could breathe. Even with his tattered wings, the universal sign of the Sefiro that one still held their covenant, and therefore their magic, with their all mighty Maker. His words bubbled to the surface, his final words before she burned him into ashes: "You understand."_

_Morgana was knocked out of her trance by the Justicars swinging their blades at her, sending out gouts of fire towards her. She let out a cry of pain as the swords cut into her arms and stomach, but her eyes quickly focused again. A burst of vicious golden flames exploded from her body, tinged by the slightest amount of purple, and sent the Justicars flying away from her. Two recovered almost immediately, and charged at her once more, trying to cut her down. Morgana reached out and grabbed one Justicar's arm and slammed him into the ground. The other sheared her wings, making her grunt in pain. With her adrenaline pumping, she did not notice the tendril that snaked out and grabbed the flying Sefiro's ankle, slamming her into the ground next to Morgana. _

_Morgana's hands shot forward and grabbed both of the Justicar's heads, pressing them into the pristine marble with inhuman strength. She could hear the metal groan, the bones start to bend from the force she was pushing with. Morgana could feel their life force being drained, and if she were any more aware than she was, would have noticed the flesh on her arm starting to heal itself._

_The healing magic of the Sefiro people was unable to create new flesh, and if a wound was too serious, a scar would be left in place. Such scars were seen as signs of inexperience, a sign of disgrace. The mending that was taking place on her arm left no scar, no visible sign that it was ever harmed to begin with._

_Judicator Mikael started to make his way towards her, his sword drawn. Morgana would have to kill these two quickly before the other Justicars could recover, and then attack him dir-_

"_Judicator Mikael."_

_Kayle. Morgana looked behind her, at her sister who was standing in the archway._

"_My beloved Justicar, Kayle. I was wondering when you would appear. You have arrived just in time."_

"_Did you, or did you not, break your word?"_

_The Judicator drew back, his features covered by his helmet. "What does that have to do with the matter at hand? Your sister has been corrupted."_

"_The child Gwen was to live for another year. And seeing my sister, whose arm had been torn apart by the corruption, now healed of its taint, I believe that she could have helped the child. Did you, or did you not break your word?"_

"_Her arm has...What? That is impossible...None of them are capable of the art of healing. You know this."_

"Yes. Or no." Kayle started walking towards him, her sword still in its scabbard.

"_Only to protect our people, Justicar Kayle. The corruption spr-"_

_Kayle closed the distance, her sword drawn faster than a blink. Judicator Mikael's Aegis spell enveloped him, the orangish, yellow aura that should have shielded him from every form of harm did nothing as he found his neck impaled on the end of her blade. A graceful twist, and his head rolled off._

"_A Judicator who breaks their word is not fit to adjudicate anyone."_

_His hot blood sprayed onto Kayle, bathing her armor in it. The white mane of her helmet was quickly dyed in crimson. None of the other Justicars knew how to react, including Morgana. The blood of their Judicator streamed down towards her and the two Justicars she kept pinned to the ground._

"_Justicar Morgana, release your brethren. They only did what they were ordered, they are not guilty of any crime," Kayle commanded._

_Morgana's eyes narrowed. She snapped out of her shock, her anger that had died away started to simmer once more. "No. No, Kayle, they followed his orders. They're responsible for their actions, they-"_

"_They are not responsible for their actions. They were commanded, they followed their orders, and they obeyed. That is all."_

"_Even though those orders were wrong, Kayle! How easy a guise is it to wear when you don't have to take responsibility for your actions?!" she spat back. _

"_Morgana. You need to calm yourself."_

"_No! No, I will not _calm_ myself! I have no reason to! You just-"_

"_Killed the Judicator of our people because he broke his word." Kayle pointed her sword at her sister. "Look, this is his blood that drips. A crucible will be made in memory of him, and that is all he will be. The leader of our people, for more than ten thousand years, and I killed him. Calm yourself, sister, for your sake. What will your anger give you?"_

_Morgana started to shake uncontrollably. "N-no...No, it'll be the same, Kayle, it'll be the same, what you did, and what I will do! It's the same! They'll be-"_

"_No, it will not be the same. Let judgement be rendered, Morgana. If they were the ones who had purified her, then they will meet their due punishment. Until we know more, you cannot act. He broke his word and accosted a life, for this he was punished accordingly. If you kill them without the proper knowledge, you in turn will have to be killed. That is justice."_

_Morgana's memory slipped into the fight once more, with the Fallen ones. She had been scouring the mountainsides for any survivors when she came across a deep cavern. Her magic lit up the cavern, and revealed a harrowing sight. more than five dozen Fallen Sefiro had hidden themselves here. If they all attacked her at once, she would be killed without her magic. Morgana needed to keep the illusion of might up and kept the flame burning, illuminating their faces. Their terrified faces._

_They were all scared, all fearful of her. At least twenty children, all staring at her with beady eyes, dirt lining their face with trails of dried tears being the only form of washing they received in what looked like months. Sickly, famished, they were not warriors, she could see their warriors laid out on the floor, with bandages of old, crusted blood wrapped around infected wounds. It was then that Morgana was ambushed by the Sefiro spellcaster, and had it not been for her quick reaction, he would have most certainly killed her. Slaughtering him in front of all of them, Morgana looked at them, the children wailing in terror while some of the more able bodied rushed for weaponry. They were people, her people. _

_What were they doing? What had they done, the Justicars, the Sefiro, to their own people?_

"_Justicar Morgana! Are you alright?" a voice called out to her. It was one of her fellow Justicars. "Do you need any aid?"_

_Morgana swallowed hard, her right arm quaking from pain as a thick slab of flesh sloughed off her bones. She called back, while looking at the Fallen ones, "I was attacked, but I subdued him! There's nothing in this cavern but ashes!"_

_She gave them a nod, turned around, and flew out of the cavern without another word, the light from her magic dying out with a passing thought._

"_Eye for an eye...heh…" Morgana grip slacked on the heads of the two Justicars. "You're wrong. You're wrong, Kayle. We should already be killed, then, if that were the case, if that were justice. We're already murderers. We just follow orders, we followed _his_ orders, killing people that could have been helped. Our people. We are no better than him for following his command. We all deserve to die, for what we have done by _your_ logic. What have these past decades done? What has been done in the past millenniums? We are monsters, Kayle, hiding behind the guise of justice and righteousness. Eye for an eye, then we all deserve death if that were the case. The world doesn't work that way, but-"_

"_Put them down, and step away. Judgement needs to be rendered." Kayle took a step towards Morgana. "This matter is settled."_

"_No! No it is not! Thousands, tens of thousands of innocent lives have been-"_

"_Emotion should not cloud our vision, our judgement." Kayle took another step towards her sister. "You are allowing emotion to reign. Calm yourself."_

"_Why? Why should I calm down? Why should I-"_

"_Because what you are doing will change nothing, except the fact that I will have to cut you down." Kayle's voice took on a strange tone. It sounded...sad? Pleading? "Please," she begged._

_Kayle begged her. Kayle, of all people._

_Morgana's hands started to shake. She released the Justicars, brought her hands up to her face, and let out a mournful wail. The Justicars scurried away, not sure how to react to this situation. Kayle walked towards her fallen sister with quiet steps. With slow movements, Kayle removed her helmet, and placed it on the ground next to Morgana. She reached over, and gingerly brought her sister in with a soft hug._

"_Kayle...Kayle...she's gone. They took her...they took her..."_

"_I know."_

"_And...they'll, they _will _put you on trial."_

"_Let them. I welcome their judgement. I am not wrong in my actions." Kayle gave Morgana's shoulder a few awkward taps. Comforting was never her forte, yet she still attempted to do so. "You need to have faith in our people, in me. Can you do that, Morgana?"_

* * *

"Faith…"

Morgana's hand closed too quickly, crushing the berries and forcing the juices to squirt out.

"Faith."

The Fallen One's pale purple cheeks started to become a dark blue, a sign of her anger. The tendrils that stretched from her started to act more erratic, smashing into the nearby cabinets, smashing the wood and forced Morgana to storm out of the room, trailing the fruit juices along her side. After all of these years, the incisions that day left never healed. And the betrayal of Kayle, that only deepened the wounds.

* * *

"_K-Kayle…? Kayle? What have you done?"_

"_One hundred years. I was foolish, but I kept my word. Those years end _today._"_

"_KAYLE! WHY?!"_

"_You corrupted them. Look at you, Morgana. Look at what you have become."_

"_Don't you realize it, Kayle? This is not unnatural magic! They are wrong! What we were taught were wrong! I have spoken to them! They are people, Kayle, they are no less _our_ own people! Now tell me, where are mother and fath-"_

"_Killed. By your hands."_

"_Wh-wh...wha…?"_

"_They showed signs of being touched. Your taint corrupted them. They had to be purified. I _had_ to purify them."_

"_...N...nuh...Ha...ha ha...Ha ha ha!"_

"_..."_

"_It's, it's a joke, right Kayle? You're kidding, aren't you? Y-you, you almost got me, you almost got me! Kayle, it's a joke, laugh with me."_

"_..."_

"_K-Kayle, come on...Y...You didn't…"_

"_As the Judicator of _my_ people, I saw the evidence, and I judged accordingly. They were purged."_

* * *

Morgana flung her hands to her sides and let out a primal yell. The anger that boiled her blood was making her have thoughts in regards to how much of Noxus would be destroyed if she detonated the souls of the nearest eight hundred, no, eight_ thousand_ people.

* * *

_Morgana let out a yelp of pain and shock, the smell of cinder, charred flesh and burnt feathers quickly filled her nostrils. One of her wings was burnt down to the very bone, her flesh barely hanging on. Her other wing was unharmed for now, maybe she could try fleeing. When Kayle swung her sword, Morgana managed to dodge the fire that issued forth from the blade, her tear stained and frightened face illuminated by the fires of their home still burning behind the golden clad Judicator. She managed to flutter a good twenty feet into the air when another sear of pain crippled her and sent her tumbling to the earth once more._

_Morgana looked all around her, over thirty Justicars surrounded her from every side. Kayle was intent on killing her, flying slowly towards her crippled prey._

"_Y...Y…" Morgana took a nervous swallow. "Who are you…?"_

_Kayle did not stop her advance._

"_Where is she?"_

_Silence._

"_Where is my sister?" Morgana screamed. "Where is my sister? Who are you?!"_

_Kayle stopped. She removed her helmet, and her cold, judging eyes shattered the last piece of Morgana's heart as she said, "I am Judicator Kayle, and I have no sister, nor parents or any family. I am born of the Sefiro, and I serve the Sefiro. My sister died long ago. It was only because I kept my word to her that you even lived this long. You will be purged."_

_Kayle threw her helmet down and drew her blade once more._

'Where's Kayle? Where's Kayle? Where's my sister? She'll come any moment now, won't she?' _she thought to herself, her breath quickening, the entire scene surreal to her._

_Kayle raised her sword up, readied to plunge it into the heart of the fallen one before her._

'Kayle? No. It's not you. Who...who are you?'

"_No!"_

_Despite the protective aura of the Aegis spell surrounding Kayle and all of her Justicars, they all felt a sudden, invisible tug in their chests. Kayle's body bucked once, but she maintained her composure while the other Justicars fell to the ground and writhed in agony._

"_NO!"_

_Morgana pulled in towards herself and felt a ripping sensation. Thirty two souls surged into her, filling her with a new power, numbing some of the pain from her destroyed wings. She panicked. Not realizing it, she was soaring upwards, wide eyed, tears streaming. When she looked back, she saw Kayle struggling to stand, blood running from her mouth, and those eyes._

_Those cold, unfeeling eyes._

_A familiar sensation filled the cracks in Morgana's heart, one she felt when she discovered what Mikael had done. She would find the other Fallen ones once more, and she would set out what she originally desired when Gwen had died: Kill the Judicator. Whoever that was back there, that was not her sister. It had her face, it had her body, her memories, but it was not her. Something was wrong with the Sefiro, and the tyranny had to be brought to an end. For the sake of her people, and for her._

_Whoever that being was, that was not Kayle._

* * *

A cry of anger escaped Morgana's lips. Her fingers tightened. Kayle no doubt gave not a single care about that day, or today, nor will it dawn on her to care tomorrow or ever again, so why did she? Why did she have to care still?

Damn them all.

A thick, miasmatic magic started to surround her hands and arms. Why did she still care, after so many centuries?

Morgana grabbed the nearest object, the shatter of glass echoing in the room, and readied to hurl it when it let out a soft squeak. In a single instant, her magic died away, and she stared at what she had grabbed.

A rotted away old doll, barely recognizable except for a single button sewed on dozens of times on its face, the faintest hint of a smile, and a dull golden helmet that had been made with long forgotten, but nonetheless expert hands.

Morgana smirked. She raised the doll upwards and bounced it up and down. "Sorry about that, Arthur. I know you're _much_ too fragile to be tossed about like that." The Fallen One barely noticed the large piece of glass that impaled the palm of her hand. The remnants of a broken glass case laid broken at her feet, the base of it still on a shelf that was otherwise littered with ancient magical tomes.

Morgana placed the doll back, pulled out the glass with ease, and snapped her fingers. The glass reformed itself and created a protective dome around the doll once more. She let out a sigh and looked back towards the kitchen. Blood ran down her fingers, but she still had to finish that cake for her meeting later.

Morgana took a deep breath in so she could regain her stately, overpowering demeanor, then she went back into her kitchen.

* * *

"Why am I here again?" a woman's voice growled.

"Because there is someone I want you to meet."

Riven pushed the door open to the Sinful Succulance bakery within the Institute of War. "Morgana? Are you available?"

"I do not see why you think bringing me here will do anything." Diana stepped into the building after Riven had, her eyes scanning the darkness. "And it seems she is not here."

"No, I'm here."

A loud snap, and the lights turned on. Morgana sat at a specifically prepared table, with two chairs, two plates, two pairs of utensils, and a cheesecake topped with a dark blue, fruity sauce of some sort. "Hello, Riven. I do wish you told me you were bringing a guest." The Fallen One brushed her left hand, which had bandages wrapped around it, towards Diana. "I would have told them earlier to go away."

"Morgana," Riven started to say, but Diana interrupted her.

"You want me to talk to a Fallen Angel? Tch. I might as well speak with a rat."

The moonlit knight turned around and moved to walk away, but Morgana's mock filled voice stopped her. "Make sure the door doesn't hit you off of your hypocrisy horse."

Diana spun around, staring daggers at the far too calm Fallen one. "What did you say to me?"

"I said go ahead, leave. You _stupid,_ little, _hypocrite_," she clarified.

"I am n-"

"No no, you just believe what people tell you, just like the rest of them." Morgana folded her hands onto the table in front of her. "Just like people tell you I'm evil, or that I'm a Fallen Angel, or an angel at all, and really, they can't give a single d*mn about who I really am, I'll just believe people saying how stupid you are. I'll let people call me evil, and I can't care. I'll let them call me an angel, because it's that much simpler to wrap their mind around such a familiar concept. The moon trying to overpower the sun, for what reason? Hah! Or, let's bring up the fact that you refused to bow down to the sun, but you'll let LeBlanc collar you with a neat bow and everything? I must admit that it's a very nice fit on you, _dog_."

"You will not question my actions." Diana's hand twitched, her curved blade started to glow with lunar energy.

"Go ahead." Morgana made a sweeping gesture towards the Lunari avatar. "Start something. I've had a bad enough day as it is, give me something productive to do. No one will miss you."

"You. Know. Nothing of me," Diana hissed. "You know _nothing_ of what I have been through."

"And here is where you'll tell me that you're justified, just like everyone else, is it not?" Morgana's eyes narrowed. "I already know how you feel. I know every emotion that courses through you, I know the thoughts that-"

"I was betrayed by my own people." A single tremor rolled through Diana's otherwise stoic composure. "By the people who raised me, by those closest, dearest and most beloved to me. I was labeled a traitor for doing nothing more than expose the truth that they hid from everyone. You know _nothing_ of my pain. You know nothing of my trials, of what I had to sacrifice, do not _dare_ presume that you can lecture me."

Both Riven and Morgana were surprised at Diana's response. Morgana hid it better, at least visually, while Riven gave a slight nod of her head, not sure how to respond.

"Really?" A thin smile spread across Morgana's lips. "Well then. Before, you had my attention. Now?"

A tendril snaked out and slammed the door behind Diana and Riven close. The same tendril, before the Lunari avatar could react, started to prod and push her towards the Fallen one. A different inky tendril reached out to the side and grabbed a nearby chair, pulled it to the table, then shot away into a random direction. By the time Diana was forcefully pushed to her chair the other tendril returned with a plate and pair of utensils, setting it down in front of her.

"You have my interest."

Riven let out a sigh of relief and made her way over to the table to sit with the other two women. Tonight was going to be a very interesting discussion.

* * *

Author's Notes: This took months of planning. With a lot of help from KuzAnn, I managed to finally write this out, and get it exactly how I wanted it to be. It's not edited though, so if there are poor word choices or mistakes, don't blame her, blame me. I hope you all enjoy this!

However, I'm so proud of this work, that I'm going to make it its own short story.


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